


your smile, like sunshine

by noires



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, lyria & the captain stage an intervention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19146358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noires/pseuds/noires
Summary: Sandalphon feels burdened by the weight of promises he's made to Lucifer. They pull, heavy with purpose, on his hunched spine. In his desperation, he becomes trapped in a past that could never be: a tender gaze, a warm mug, and a garden with a floral breeze.But he isn't alone. Not anymore.[takes place post wmtsb 2 & before the events of wmtsb 3]





	your smile, like sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> tossing another lucisan drabble into the void. i wrote this just before wmtsb 3 came out, & i'd say that it's compliant with wmtsb 2 only. although, i think you could also consider this happening during the interim between wmtsb 2 & 3?
> 
> the captain (djeeta and gran) is written without specifying which of the two it is.
> 
> thank you for reading

_Your smile, like sunshine, burns the sky golden. You exist in contrast to my melancholy, and vitriol. You encapsulate the beauty of perfection._

 

_I will never know why you took such an interest in one of your creations; awkwardly impolite and obedient me who only tried not to displease. You were, at first, just the reverie I desperately sought from the horror and exhaustion of the laboratories._

 

_You taught me of the world below, in that soft voice of yours, with a knowledge born of eternal, profound inquisition. In that garden with just the two of us, you spoke endlessly of your curiosity with the children of humanity. With the dappled sunlight casting stars in your eyes, I listened as you explained their customs, food, and technologies. We spoke over coffee, which I at first dreaded so. Yet I found myself so inextricably drawn to you -- magnetized, suspended in your attention, craving it at an arm’s length -- that I could love it in your company._

 

_When you first extended your hand towards me in a cautious, inspecting motion that thrummed with power, I found myself willed towards you. Our hands linked, fingers laced as we drew in close, and I had never felt so complete. Gales exploded from the collision of the magic dwelling in our cores. Time slowed to a crawl as I stared into your countenance. With gentle curiously, you tilted towards me as I -- boldly, as an affront to my obvious inferiority -- reached my other hand to your face and pushed flowing hair out of your eyes. You grasped at one of the many brilliant white feathers of yours, dislodged from the wind and floating around us, and, after a contemplative moment, tucked it behind my ear._

 

_The sky rained light around us, clouds parting in our joined presence. The heavens shuddered, clicking as though into alignment, when I pressed up to kiss you for the first time._

 

_Can’t you see that your eyes are the vivid blue of the sky we both love?_

 

_In Pandemonium, then the hell that was the alternative space of the cocoon... I spent eons staring at the sky and imagining your eyes. They are the clearest of blues, with flecks of silver-white like the billowy clouds that meander through the ether -- all of it timeless, frozen in the azure like clockwork. The passage of clouds reminds me of you; so close, yet persistently out of grasp. So perfect, yet so unobtainable. For years I hated you for the compassion you lacked, for never understanding the substance of my feelings and the extent of my turmoil._

 

_I waited an eternity to be freed, then imprisoned, then freed again. I truly despised you, cursing you with every waking breath. I was fed up with the skies and the lofty evolution you so often spoke of._

 

_I wanted it all to burn. For two millennia, I wanted to kill you._

 

_When I could finally speak with you, you forgave me. Again and again, you shouldered the weight of my sins as your own. And yet, with my arms and heart finally open, my hands could only grasp at your feathers as they burst into fractals of crystalline light. I was too late to reach you._

 

_Perhaps these feelings hanging in the space between our lips, rosy red like what humans call love, made you weak in your final moments._

 

 _I relied too much on your savoir-faire, on your innate ability to know anything, be anyone, command_ everything _. You were the sun in the sky that illuminated the profound heavens, breathed life into my monochromatic world, and gave me reason in an existence without meaning. I learned this too late. Effectively, I ruined what could have been._

 

* * *

 

_I hear that the children of humanity leave flowers at the gravestones of the dead._

 

_What sentimental nonsense._

 

_No flowers could ever convey the depth of my feelings for you._

 

* * *

 

As the day begins to die, the sky turns orange.

 

Auburn light glows through a small, circular window in the hallways of the Grandcypher. Sandalphon walks the halls of the airship, ever so much the silent sentry, on a familiar crusade towards the kitchens. He finds the familiar door unlocked, and rotates the handle in a fluid motion.

 

Sandalphon moves mechanically, grinding a small handful of coffee beans to a fine grit. Muscle memory proves strong; even with his mind spaced out to a different timeline, the process of making drip coffee is one he can never forget.

 

He’s been in this place before. What’s to say what is and is not real? What is and is not a dream? He pours hot water over the filter, wetting it before pouring the coffee in. He blooms the coffee, waits, and watches the sun fall behind the horizon.

 

The only noise in the kitchen is the sound of the coffee percolating and the deep, slow sound of his breathing. Sandalphon is the only one in the kitchen during these desperate 20 minutes; the rest of the crew tends to give him his space, particularly in the melancholy sunset when he makes his second and final cup of coffee for the day.

 

_Drip, drip, drip._

 

It flashes in his mind suddenly, the image of that moment, blood seeping from a severed head. It drips in a puddle on the floor like coffee into his cup.

 

Will every day from now on be a waking nightmare? Burdened with a purpose that should never have been his, with wings that sag his spine and pull on his heart?

 

_Yes. Yes, because that is his purpose, and nothing is more important than his duty. A promise shared between them, written in blood and tears._

 

The coffee done, Sandalphon removes the filter and the grounds, cleaning up before taking a sip of his creation. Perfect, but never perfect enough. Each taste is a reminder of what he will never taste again.

 

The bitterness rests heavy on his tongue. Over the months of living on the Grandcypher, he has come to realize that he may have never liked coffee. The artful talent of preparing drip coffee, the creation of the drink from tree to red bean to roasting, was all a carefully construed lie in that cocoon prison of Lucifer’s. When he sips it, the overwhelming drink shocks his tongue. Maybe it was all a farce, something he used to get closer to Lucifer those millennia ago. Was it possible to fool oneself into finding interest in something?

 

He wonders if he could convince himself to forget the past.

 

With the coffee complete, Sandalphon moves to wash the dishes he’s used. He spirits out of the kitchen, coffee in hand, with the click of heels to uneven floorboards.

 

A far cry from Caanan, the dimension of the Astrals, and that serene garden.

 

* * *

 

On the ship’s bow, with thoughts and aircraft racing through the skies, Sandalphon watches the last gleam of the sunset. He sips from his coffee, sighs, and wills away the bubbling and familiar sensation festering in his chest.

 

Loneliness?

 

Regret?

 

“Um....”

 

A girl’s voice -- shy and familiar. The girl in blue.

 

“What is it.” Just a statement. He doesn’t have the energy to muster an inquiring intonation. Still, Sandalphon turns away from the ship’s railing and glances at Lyria in invitation. The Singularity stands behind her, smiling quietly. Vyrn bobs around, circling around the two of them, silent for once. Lyria takes a few exploratory steps forward.

 

“Do you mind? Can we join you? I know we all had coffee together this morning, but…”

 

“Sure.” He turns back to stare at the final wink of sunlight and feels rather than sees the approach of the trio at his sides. They stare, silently, as the sun crests over the horizon. Just before it disappears from sight, the Grandcypher flies through a thick cloud, obscuring their view.

 

Such occasions were becoming more common on the airship. Sandalphon typically avoided fraternizing with the rest of the crew, but the Singularity and their companions seemed to be interested in him.

 

Sandalphon slowly found himself becoming more comfortable in the presence of the trio. Even his dirty, broken heart could seek companionship, he supposes.

 

The Singularity steps closer to Sandalphon. Sandalphon looks down at them and notices they are shivering. “If you feel cold, you should go inside.” They look down, shaking their head. From his height, Sandalphon can barely see their face.

 

What a change from what he is so accustomed to -- looking up at everyone and everything as an inferior.

 

“Sandalphon, do you feel lonely sometimes?” Lyria’s voice comes quietly, almost swept away with the wind that flies past. She rubs her arms together.

 

Sandalphon takes an unpleasant sip of his coffee. It’s run cold like his blood.

 

He takes a few moments to pick his words carefully. He so thoroughly knows the repercussions of saying something he eventually regrets (with his whole being carrying the guilt in his heart for the rest of his long, miserable life) “I… no. Of course not. If I played into such things, my mind would have rotted away in prison long ago.” A beat. “What exactly do you mean?”

 

Lyria’s lips purse, contemplative, before she speaks again, “Firstly, I’m very happy that we’ve gotten closer lately! I really enjoyed braiding your hair the other day, hehe…”

 

Sandalphon frowns. Truthfully, though he would admit it to no one, he found such trifling experiences with Lyria and the Singularity as oddly rewarding. With sentimental reasons or otherwise, he had left the braids in long after they had been made. For a being who has spent a millennia of existence in imprisonment, he is so intimately familiar with the passage of time as a nemesis of unparalleled strength. How easy it is for a mind to break in the face of eternal time.

 

Yet, when spending time with the trio, Sandalphon finds he can shut off his mind to the grand onus of his existence that so often plagues him.

 

“And this is something I’ve noticed for a while now, but,” Lyria smiles -- Sandalphon catches a strange and unfamiliar somberness to it -- “even more so now, you seem sadder. When, before, you seemed more upset, angry, and lost. We’re friends now, so… can you confide in me?” The Singularity places a hand on her shoulder and nods towards Sandalphon in affirmation.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Something fragile comes to the forefront of Sandalphon’s mind. A delicate gossamer, hanging meekly in the balance, swaying to and fro. Pandora’s box. Unaddressed thoughts, swirling a vortex in his mind, have been festering for too long.

 

When Sandalphon doesn’t respond, Lyria presses on.

 

“Do you miss him? Do you miss Lucifer?”

 

_The thread pulls tight._

 

“I made a promise with him that I would carry on his duties. I’ve sworn on the six white wings at my back to uphold the mantle of the supreme primarch that governs evolution. The only thing important to me is to fit into Lucifer’s role and walk his lofty footsteps. Anything else is just a distraction.”

 

“I know that’s a lie,” Lyria says.

 

_..._

 

“You aren’t privy to my thoughts. I’m telling the truth. I dedicate my wretched life to this cause. It’s ever so much my privilege as it is my punishment.” Sandalphon’s voice drops to a low whisper, “Even in death he taunts me. Would you miss a person who torments you so?”

 

“I think you do miss him.”

 

“Again, that isn’t true.”

 

“I think you might.. love him.”

 

 _Snap_.

 

Sandalphon’s colorless vision suddenly alights with flames of chroma. “As if primal beasts are capable of love. As if a god could love a prisoner. You’re the one telling lies now, girl in blue.”

 

“Sandalphon, don’t you think you would find peace if you admit to yourself this truth?” The Singularity speaks suddenly. Their eyes are steeled with conviction, voice unshaking, “Lucifer never felt that you were inferior --”

 

“You can’t put words in a dead angel’s mouth. Not even you, Singularity.”

 

“He said this to you himself. Even now… with those wings on your back, he’s affirming you as his equal.”

 

Sandalphon’s eyes flash; the hand that isn’t holding the coffee is clenched in a tight fist. “He’s dead now! So what’s the point in debating this? So what if I hypothetically loved him; he’s not alive! If I just perform my duties, isn’t that enough --”

 

Lyria takes two quick strides forward and clasps Sandalphon’s hand in both her own. “I care about you more than that, Sandalphon! We’re all friends, right? I just want you to be happy! You aren’t just a dedicated tool and you don’t have to be misunderstood! Please just let us help you!”

 

Sandalphon bites his tongue, and in that second he feels something warm and wet hit his hand. He takes a glance to the blackened sky, confused when he is met with rainless clouds. Realization dawns upon him when Lyria’s tear-laden face stares up at him.

 

“Instead of your wings being a burden, maybe they’re a promise from Lucifer, too. A vow to protect you with his powers, to help you soar to new heights. You’ve always been deserving of love, even if you made bad decisions in your past.”

 

For what feels like an eternity, they stay frozen, players in a demented waltz. Sandalphon’s breathing slowly evens out. Eventually, he prys his hand from Lyria’s cold ones. The world shifts back to that familiar, miserable gray. “Sorry. I should have never yelled at you.”

 

Lyria sniffles quietly, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands before smiling at Sandalphon. “It’s okay. I just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone. You’re allowed to have your feelings, no matter what they are. It doesn’t make you any worse at fulfilling your promise to Lucifer.”

 

The Singularity draws close, “We’re here for you, Sandalphon.”

 

“You shouldn’t make promises like that.”

 

“But I will. You need to realize that you’ve always deserved happiness. We’re all precious friends now.”

 

Their grin could light the darkest skies.

 

“In that case… I’ll trust you.”


End file.
